Waiting For You
by angel-death-dealer
Summary: He reached over and flicked the lock closed without moving away from her at all, but as he did he gave her a challenging look. "Is this a game?" he asked her. "Games have rules."


**Waiting For You**

She was forever in the shower after a mission.

She was the same as he was as well, she'd never use her private bathroom so she'd use the one down in the training rooms. If they went into their private rooms they'd just see the bed and collapse on it without showering. So he was waiting in the training rooms, covered in dirt and all sorts, some dried blood near his shoulder but it wasn't his so he didn't worry about that, waiting to hear the water shut off so that he could take his turn. So far it had been half an hour. She said that she'd be half an hour. But he could still hear running water. When it turned off a few moments he went over to the door and knocked on it. "Natasha, you done in there?" he called through. "Some of us still look like shit."

"All done," she called back.

"Good, 'cause you- _whoa_, you're not done. Sorry," he said, stumbling out an apology as he came into a collision with Natasha's form as he walked into the room. She'd been right when she said she was done with the shower, but she wasn't quite 'done' yet. She certainly wasn't dressed. All that covered her was a small towel, and she was sat on the edge of the counter, pulling a brush through her tangled hair. She was less than a foot away from the door which now open, along with a very apologetic Clint.

"It's fine," she shrugged. Continuing to brush her hair. It wasn't as embarrassing for her because she knew he'd seen parts of her naked body on missions before, and she certainly wasn't bothered by him seeing her arms and legs. "You can shower, just shut the door. You're letting the breeze in."

"Sure," he said, kicking it closed behind him. They fell into silence as he took of his boots and threw them into a corner. As he stood back upright, his eyes went south her legs, and he realised why she'd been so long. She'd shaved her legs. They looked shiny and smooth and - _head up, Barton, she'll kill you…maybe she'll choke you with her thighs…_

While he was having his internal argument, she said the hairbrush aside and very clearly noticed him staring at her legs. "Perv," she teased with a raised eyebrow.

"You shaved your legs," he teased back. "It's not perverted to notice that. It's observant."

"Is there a difference with you?" she challenged with a smirk.

He took a step closer to her. "Perversion insinuates that I'm staring for sexual purposes," he told her, placing his hands on either side of the counter where she was sat. "But I'm actually just checking for signs of injury since I know you didn't do the mandatory infirmary check when we got back - again, I might add. So I'm just looking out for my partner."

"And it bothers you that I didn't do my med check?"

"Guess it does," he nodded.

"Care to enlighten me as to why?" she asked.

He took a long look at her body from her toes to her throat, and then returned his eyes to hers. "Tash, I care to do _many_ things to you right now, but enlighten you isn't high up on that list," he admitted.

Natasha's smirk was full of seduction. "Perhaps we should start at the bottom of the list and work our way to the top." she suggested. "Started with why you're using medical checks you're not qualified to perform to stare at my bare legs."

He kept his eyes trained on hers now as a challenge. "Just making sure that you're not hiding anything life threatening."

It was a lie, they both knew that. Even their eyes were smiling tauntingly as they tried to out stare each other. Natasha usually won in situations like this because she had far more control over her urges than he did, and he'd already gotten a good look at what skin was on show, but she was composing herself very well except her eyes were giving her away. He was becoming increasingly aware of how close their bodies were , especially with his hands positioned on either side of her thighs.

"That's an interesting way to look at it," she nodded softly.

"There's also curiosity," he added.

"Again, not an answer that divulges anything," she said, trying to look unsatisfied and failing miserably.

"It's been a long time since I saw parts of you undercover," he reminded her, leaning in a little closer. "I'm curious to see if they still look the same, and feel the same."

"Is that all you're curious about?" she asked into the six inches of air between their faces.

He shook his head. "It was, but there's a few more things now. I'm mainly curious as to what your reaction would be if i do what I really want to do."

"And what would that be?" she asked.

He left his eyes dip south again for a moment. "It involves losing this towel and something very, very naughty," he teased her.

She smirked at him, but there was a small flush on her cheeks now. "You're trying very hard to control yourself," she noticed. "Anyone else you'd have had them against the wall by now."

He sighed a laugh. "Control is a very hard thing to get a hold of," he told her. "Maybe I'm a grown man."

"I'm sure you are," she said, her voice barley more than a whisper but having more of an effect on him than any of her previous comments. "But a grown man would have locked the door before starting this game."

He reached over and flicked the lock closed without moving away from her at all, but as he did he gave her a challenging look. "Is this a game?" he asked her. "Games have rules."

"Which you love to break," she reminded him. "Adds to the thrill, right?"

For the first time, Clint allowed himself to fully recognise the situation; Natasha had tried to make a move by seducing him and it had gone horribly wrong as she'd fallen to his mercy as much as he had to hers. They were slowly losing their control on the situation, and there was a longing in her eyes, a longing for him, and he loved it. "I'll show you what adds to the thrill," he grinned. He moved his hands from the counter and placed them on her bare knees. "I'm starting to think you were waiting for me," he said suspiciously.

"Not necessarily," she told him. "I was suggesting sharing the time in the shower room because we're both exhausted after the mission and it would save time."

He shook his head. "I hate to disappoint you, Tasha, but I'm not letting you leave this room for some time," he said, allowing his hands to travel from her knees to her thighs.

"No?" she asked, placing her hands over his shoulder to close the gap between them.

"Definitely not," he confirmed, as his hands disappeared under the towel and went straight to her hips. "It's time we stopped teasing each other."

She smirked again, as their faces came together with brushes of cheeks and noses. "And yet, you seem to have enjoyed this."

And when their lips come together in a mad smash of passion, he has to break away to grin. "Good call on shaving your legs," he admires.


End file.
